


Take A Hint, Zelda Spellman

by seriousoncer



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Zarie, hilda prays to hecate, zelda cannot take a hint, zelda is annoyed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29385975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousoncer/pseuds/seriousoncer
Summary: Hilda took a deep breath and began, “Hecate. This time, I have an intention I think you’ll fully support. I require a lover for Zelda.”Zelda’s eyes shot open and she nearly swallowed her tongue. “What the Heaven are—”“Shut it,” Hilda said sternly. “Can’t you see that I’m busy?”Or, Hilda asks Hecate to procure a lover for Zelda, and a certain voodoo priestess comes along.
Relationships: Hilda Spellman/Zelda Spellman, Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina) & Zelda Spellman, Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Zelda Spellman, Marie LaFleur/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	Take A Hint, Zelda Spellman

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This fic is dedicated to my dear friend and bully, @1TheArtOfLosing1. You should really check out her work, it's amazing! 
> 
> Also, this fic is loosely based on "Take A Hint, Dani Brown" by Talia Hibbert.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy :))

The moon was high and full, the night had passed way beyond the witching hour, and Zelda had jam on her dress-clad breast. The left one, specifically.

“For Satan’s sake,” she muttered and used her finger to wipe it off.

“Daydreaming, Zee?” Hilda sat across the kitchen table, sipping at her lukewarm tea, with a crooked smile on her face.

Zelda produced a withering glare. “I am not _daydreaming_ , Hildy,” she haughtily answered, though she absolutely had been. “My chest was simply curious to see if your blasted jam was satisfactory.”

“And the verdict?”

“Undecided.” She took a long drag of her cigarette, holding it in and feeling it burn, before exhaling, and meticulously blowing every bit of smoke directly in Hilda’s face.

Her sister’s insulted mutterings faded into the background as Zelda set aside the jar of peach jam, placing the plate of biscuits toward the center of the table. Just behind that dish, was a small, noir statue of the triple goddess Hecate.

Like any other self-respecting deity of witchcraft, night, and necromancy, Hecate was covered by a thin lace material and not much else – unless one counted the crown of spikes on her head and the enormous hair. Zelda did have a lot of hair, but no spikes, nor an established habit of public nudity.

Maybe she should consider it.

The statue was an heirloom passed on from their grandmother – the very same headstrong woman who’d once told an adolescent Zelda, “There’s power in knowledge passed between generations, whether it’s by those Unholy books of yours or by your elder’s tales.”

Zelda had to admit she agreed.

“Your hands, love,” Hilda nudged, apparently done teasing. And so, at the table shared by two sisters, in a room where candlelight and the full moon’s glow twisted idly together, Zelda accepted Hilda’s hands and closed the circle surrounding their goddess.

“You first,” Zelda whispered.

Hilda was bouncing with delight. “Are you sure?”

“I can see you’re positively shaking to invoke something or other.”

She already had an inkling as to what Hilda was going to say. Sabrina had just left for the Vatican, pursuing her religious studies in order to create her own manifesto, so Zelda had been feeling a little lonely. Ambrose was no longer living at the mortuary, and although he dropped by every now and then, it wasn’t the same.

Hilda took a deep breath and began, “Hecate. This time, I have an intention I think you’ll fully support. I require a lover for Zelda.”

Zelda’s eyes shot open and she nearly swallowed her tongue. “What the Heaven are—”

“Shut it,” Hilda said sternly. “Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

“But Hildy—”

Her sister’s freakishly strong hand clasped tighter around her own. “No arguing. And I’ve noticed how upset you’ve been ever since Mary.”

If looks could kill, Hilda would have been six feet under. “I was never upset about Mary. Becoming upset is the sort of pointless, time-consuming emotion I work very hard to avoid.”

“Oh, _really_?” The words were dripping with skepticism, very much like the wax dripping from the candles around them. “I vividly remember when she dumped you—”

“She didn’t dump me, you blithering idiot. We were never exclusive, a fact she wanted to change, and I did not.”

The blonde blinked. “So, when she dumped you,” Hilda continued undeterred, because Hilda was a meddling fool, “you bought an entire container of cookie dough and a can of whipped cream and ate both of them in an alarming pace, I nearl—”

“I have a sweet tooth,” Zelda said coldly, which was undeniably true.

Hilda sighed. “You do realize it’s not healthy for a witch to be so out of touch with her feelings, don’t you?”

“Rubbish. I am entirely in touch with my so-called _feelings_ , thank you very much.”

“Except for the times when you don’t know how to handle someone you slept with falling in love with you, so you go all Betty Crocker.”

Zelda was seriously considering decking her sister in the face. “I told you, that wasn’t about Mary,” she repeated. “There must have been something in the air.”

“Yeah,” Hilda said. “Denial.”

It couldn’t have been denial.

She sure as Heaven hadn’t been moping, either. Because Zelda Phiona Spellman didn’t _mope_ – at least she didn’t mope over interpersonal relationships. She hadn’t since the day she walked in on her beloved merrily fucking someone else, and never would. Years later, Mary came along and had wanted domestic bliss and romance, and Zelda couldn’t think of anything less suited to her skillset, so they had gone their separate ways, and now everything was fine.

Except for the fact that they didn’t even talk anymore, and Zelda often caught herself missing having _someone_.

Except for that.

“Stop denying it. You want someone in your life, but you’re too stubborn to ask for it. You are a woman of reasonable intellect,” Zelda pinched her sister’s wrist at the jab, “with a deep desire for…eh, _sex,_ and absolutely nothing else. So, shut up and let me ask _for_ you.”

Zelda gritted her teeth together. “Fine, then. Ask.”

Hilda smiled, closed her eyes, and began once more. “ _Hecate_. Sorry for that little digression. As I said, Zelda needs a regular source of affection. Someone who won’t expect more than she is willing to give. Preferably someone who is beautiful and focused on their own goals, but won’t get in the way of Zelda’s. Just, please Hecate, point her in the direction of that someone. Or even just a general heading, that would also suffice.”

As she finished, a warm feeling washed over them both, as if the goddess had heard her and promised to do her absolute best. Hilda let a tentative smile curve her lips as she observed a flabbergasted Zelda.

“You felt that?”

Zelda nodded meekly.

“ _Well_ ,” Hilda said and reluctantly let go of Zelda’s clammy hands. “Now, we wait.”

* * *

The chatter ricocheting throughout the common room of the Academy was acting like the background music to her fantasies about murdering everyone around her. Come to think of it, Zelda had been considering murder quite a lot, lately. Perhaps she should look into that. Or perhaps it was simply a natural consequence of being surrounded by teenagers at every waking moment.

“ _Satan_ ,” Zelda muttered to her sister. “Are they always this loud?”

“It’s June, Zelds. It’s the end of the semester.” Both of their gazes were drifting over the perky students filling the room. “They’re _happy_.”

“Someone should change that. It’s disrespectful to be excited this early in the morning.”

Then, a woman walked into the room. Her presence commanded the room, and her effervescence seemed to suck the air right out of Zelda’s lungs.

“Who is _that_?” Hilda asked, seemingly a little awestruck.

“Don’t know,” Zelda breathed out.

“She’s…” Hilda’s words spluttered in her throat, “ _gorgeous_.”

Zelda couldn’t agree more. Being _that_ effortlessly beautiful should be illegal, or at least regulated.

“Do you know her name?” Hilda inquired, and as she turned to Zelda, she was delighted to see her sister’s rosy cheeks.

“No.” _But I’d like to scream it_.

* * *

“No umbrella?” Hilda tutted as she popped hers open. “You’re going to get _soaked_.”

“It was sunny this morning,” Zelda grumbled, wringing the water out of her sleeve. “But I’m sure you’ll blame me for the indecision of the weather, anyway.”

Not to mention she’d been somewhat distracted since that strange woman had stepped into the Academy on Monday. It was Thursday now, and Zelda remained in a befuddled sort of fugue state, which did not lend itself well to remember umbrellas.

“I wouldn’t,” Hilda chuckled and held the umbrella between them, though she favored her own head a little more.

“If my hair becomes frizzy, I’ll kill somebody. Possibly you.”

Yesterday morning, she had run into the mystery woman and quickly learned that she was called Marie LaFleur and that she was a voodoo priestess from New Orleans. They had talked in Zelda’s office for hours, and it left her with a feeling she hadn’t felt in… forever.

Hilda smirked. “Afraid you’ll bump into a certain someone?”

“Marie has a lecture today, so I highly doubt it,” Zelda said without thinking, and winced when she realized her mistake.

“ _Zelds_ —”

A gloved hand was held up. “Don’t even.”

“You _like_ her.”

“Oh, stop being such a child, Hilda.” Zelda wrapped her coat around herself as they stepped inside Dr. Cerberus’s.

“ _Hmmm_ ,” Hilda said slyly while she closed her umbrella. “Truly interesting. And speak of the devil.”

Zelda knew exactly who she’d spotted even before she turned her head.

Huddled just inside the entrance by the bookshelf stood an unmistakable, imposing figure in a long dress that reached the floor. A gorgeous headwrap was secured on her head. It was obviously her. No one else had a body like that. And no one else, Zelda might as well admit, made the constant thoughts whirring in her mind stutter to a stop.

“I should go talk to her,” Zelda muttered absentmindedly, which was partially true. They had things they needed to discuss, such as why Marie had been avoiding her.

Not that she cared.

“Talk to her? About your feelings? You’re such a romantic, Zelds.”

Zelda wore a look of disgust. “No one mentioned feelings. Now, go get us a booth. But not by the window, I don’t like being gawked at. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Hilda batted her lashes mockingly. “Unless you get lost in Marie’s eyes on the way there.”

“I will not hesitate to bring a shovel to your skull.”

Everything was muted and warm in the shop, the sound of conversations fading a little and the air growing sharp. The closer she got to Marie, the more she noticed the shadows beneath her heavy eyelashes and the tense line of her jaw. She had looked like that yesterday too when she had altogether avoided her gaze and grumped at the floor.

Zelda was busy frowning at the sudden pang the thought had caused in her chest when Marie put the book she was holding back onto the shelf and finally noticed her. “ _Zelda_.”

“ _Pardon_. Am I ruining your plan to avoid me?” Her face screwed up instantly and she scrubbed nervously at the back of her neck, and the whole world seemed to hold its breath.

Then, Marie sighed. “ _Oui_ , a little. But I wasn’t enjoying it much, so I’m glad you came over.”

Something coiled in Zelda’s stomach. “Of course you’re glad,” she said. “The question is why you felt the need to avoid me in the first place.”

“Ah. The short answer is,” Marie paused for a moment, “is that I was _, comment dit-on_ … _thinking_ about some things.”

“Hope you didn’t hurt yourself doing so.”

Marie smirked. “Well, I might not have as much practice as you.” Before Zelda could even formulate a response to that, Marie changed the subject, a little furrow forming between her brows. “Why don’t you have an umbrella? The rain is pouring down.”

Oh, _Satan_. Not this again. “It was sunny this morning,” Zelda said, and she could hear how defensive she sounded.

Marie shook her head and lifted one of her shawls off her shoulders. “Someone needs to keep you warm.”

“Say things like that, and people might start believing you care.”

“What makes you think I don’t?” She wrapped the shawl around Zelda’s shoulders now, then squeezed her upper arm. Her golden, brown eyes met Zelda’s, not with a challenge, but with quiet, open care – as if she was actually expecting a response.

“ _Well_. You avoided me for several days.”

“And I apologize for that. Will you forgive me?” She smiled slightly, and they stood like that for a long moment, close and connected. Zelda thought she felt this gentle tug in her chest as if there was a ribbon tied around her breastbone, connected to the curve of Marie’s lips.

“Yes.”

Then, Marie let go and stepped back, and once more picked up the same book she had been holding when Zelda had entered. And as she did, the moment dissolved, which was fortunate, as Zelda had no idea what had just happened.

Zelda cleared her throat and gave her borrowed shawl an assessing look. “ _Hm_. Not bad. Cashmere?”

“Nothing but luxury,” Marie joked.

She laughed, but the sound of it was slightly breathless, which was entirely Marie’s fault. Now that she wasn’t wearing the shawl anymore, Zelda could see more of her now that she’d stripped off. The way her dress stretched tight over her chest and backside, the visible tendons of her neck, and her strong arms.

She needed to distract herself.

“What are you reading?”

Without missing a beat, Marie replied, “Erotica.” Pale cheeks flushed darker and the small grin on her face fell.

“ _Pardon_?”

“I’m kidding,” she smiled. “I am looking for romance novels.”

Zelda, in a shocking display of intelligence, repeated, “Romance novels. As in actual romance novels. The novels. With the romance.”

Marie gave her a flat stare that sent another thrill down Zelda’s spine, because apparently, she found Marie gorgeous even when she was annoyed. Possibly even more.

“ _And_?” Her tone dared Zelda to elaborate.

“Nothing.” Marie raised her eyebrows, still skeptical. “ _Nothing_.”

“ _D’accord_.”

Zelda frowned. “Why are you glaring at me like that?”

“Like _what_?” Marie sighed playfully as she put the book down and turned to Zelda.

“A murdering glare.”

With complete seriousness, she told Zelda, “This is just my face. I have a murder face.” But when Zelda laughed out loud, her scowl quickly disappeared and was replaced by one of her little smiles.

“Why romance?” The question sounded a little like a drill sergeant. _Oops_.

Marie looked at her like she’d just asked if milk came from fish. “For the romance, of course.”

“The… _romance_.”

“ _Oui_. People caring for each other and talking about their feelings and living happily ever after.” Now, Zelda had officially entered the realm of ‘what the fuck’.

“You actually enjoy reading about people discussing their feelings?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Glancing to her right, Marie grabbed the first book within reach. “If I was standing here with a thriller, would you ask me why I read about people murdering each other?”

“Of course not. You have a murder face, not a feelings face.” It was Marie’s turn to laugh, the sound low and rich, and unreasonably sexy.

“ _Touché_.”

The thought of Marie being a romantic intimidated her a little. She hated to even question Hecate’s verdict, especially after asking for help like a madwoman – it seemed a tad ungrateful and slightly rude – but _come on_. A romance novel-reading Catholic sweetheart who willingly gives her shawl to umbrella forgetters without a second thought? Hecate must have a sick sense of humor.

“Fond of happily ever afters, are we?” Zelda asked brightly.

Marie bit her lip, looking a little pensive all of a sudden. “I’ve seen the alternative. That is not the story I want.”

The words caught Zelda unawares, heavy as stone, solemn as still water. An unfamiliar ache throbbed beneath her ribcage. “Oh?”

“ _Non_.” She brushed the moment off with a barely-there smile. “I mean, who doesn’t want to live happily ever after?”

Zelda studied her for a moment, searching for another hint of that serious, hidden sadness. But she couldn’t find it and decided not to push, either. Zelda certainly found it irritating when people pushed her.

So, she made herself smile in return and say, “I’m more inclined toward happy endings, actually.”

Marie stared at her with what seemed like amused disbelief, her jaw slack. “Did you just… make a joke about orgasms?”

A grin was playing at the corners of Zelda’s mouth. “I might have.”

“ _Hm_ ,” Marie smirked as she lifted her hand to tenderly touch a stray, auburn curl. “I’ll just have to convince you to give happily ever afters a fair chance. And perhaps you might be able to show me how to get _my_ happy ending, too.”

Zelda’s heart was pounding in her chest, and before she could even stop herself, she answered through a smile, “Perhaps.”

* * *

That very same night, just past the witching hour, Zelda made a mental note to thank Hecate in the morning. But as for right now, she was more than content laying in Marie’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)) Feel free to leave kudos or a comment, they make my day :))


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